#totally forgot to upload it here

[luskiddo]

fun prompt->artist cant stop thinking about it->fanart

[birbykirb]

The girls, my wives

I’ve been reading too many fics about these two, atp Ik more about them from ao3 than the damn comics. I rlly like the dynamics ppl give the two esp when prowls made out to be more cold/calculated, and Jazz super competent despite acting aloof sometimes

That being said if anyone has any rlly good recs totally give me a linkkk 😋

I have some messier doodles of the two, like notes on how I hc doorwings to work with his tac net shit and my hcs of their full designs, but I’ll probably refine those before I post them lol

[delusionaltoma]

doodle faces

[jianghushenanigans]

In defence of Shan Gudao

I can hear what you’re thinking. “Shan Gudao??? What the fuck is wrong with you???”

In my defence. Well. People defend the actions of villains who have done much worse with less valid motivations.

Look at him. He's crying. (Granted he's about to throw his son in a murder pit but still.)

TO CLARIFY I am not denying that Shan Gudao did things that are bad. He’s in general not a great guy. I’m just saying that a lot of what he does is reasonably understandable given everything that happens to him. This is very tongue-in-cheek and should only be taken as seriously as you want to. But also I’d kill for more fics/meta/etc that dealt with Shan Gudao as a 3D character with complex motivations (Which he can be!!!!! If you try hard enough!!!!!)

Warning: here be spoilers. (Obviously)

Things that Shan Gudao does that are Not Good: abandoning his preganant not-girlfriend; bullying a disabled child; joining the evil foreigners; not dying even when he said he did; killing his shifu; and throwing his son in a murder pit.

Abandoning his not-girlfriend and unborn child

To begin: casual sex is not a crime. Sleeping with the girl who won’t stop following you around and is clearly has a crush on you a bit of a dick move, but the first thing Shan Gudao actually says to He Xiaolan, as per the flash back, is something along the lines of ‘you’re bad at martial arts and should go home’. He’s not her keeper, he’s not her babysitter, he’s not her lover. She falls in love with him – because she’s into negging, apparently – but they don’t actually have any sort of two-sided relationship going on at any point.

(And honestly who can blame her for falling in love. The man looks like this. He should never have grown that moustache.)

He Xiaolan returned to Tianji Manor ‘heartbroken and pregnant’. But, notably, she didn’t actually tell Shan Gudao about Fang Duobing. He didn’t know his son even existed. This screams, ‘he finally agreed to sleep with her after she kept following him around, and when he still didn’t return her feelings after that she realised it was over and finally gave up’. He didn’t abandon her: she left him. If she left him because he didn’t return her feelings, this… isn’t really his fault? The most he could be blamed for is not communicating his feelings but honestly we don’t get to see much of them at all and what we do hear about them suggests that He Xiaolan was the one doing the chasing and he wasn’t encouraging her.

Sidebar: I’m aro + ace and the idea of blaming Shan Gudao for not returning He Xiaolan’s feelings makes me feel kinda ill. To clarify I am not blaming He Xiaolan in this situation either. It’s fucky for everyone involved.

Also, Shan Gudao did not grow up with healthy relationships to model. We don’t know much about his upbringing other than that he was living on the streets until he was around 12 or 15 or however the timeline works when Qi Mushan found Li Xiangyi, and even if we did know about that, he doesn’t remember it. The only ‘romantic’ relationship he has actually ever seen is whatever the hell was going on between Qi Mushan and Qin Po. He might not have even recognised that He Xiaolan actually had romantic feelings about him, because his only example was a couple who used their two disciples as a way of fighting each other.

And finally regarding this point: eight years after Fang Duobing is born, when Shan Gudao finds out that he does in fact have a son, he wants to take him with him. This is not the move of someone who willingly abandoned his pregnant not-girlfriend. Obviously he does change his mind when he actually meets Fang Duobing, which leads us to…

Bullying his disabled eight year old son

Yeah this one’s pretty indefensible, other than the fact that Shan Gudao never had a father/uncle/shifu/parental figure who ever said anything nice to him either so he didn’t really know any better. This is a reason but not a justification. Stop being an arsehole to the child.

Joining Feng Qing and the Nanyin rebels and attempting to take the throne

Picture, for a moment, that you woke up with no memories in some guy’s house, and he says he’s your shifu now, and this 5 year old who says you’re his older brother. And then your shifu begins training you and it’s not only immediately obvious that this 5 year old is better than you at martial arts, but also your shifu does not like you and does not want you in his house and only took you in because of this child who he thinks is the best thing that ever happened to him. And you grow up and this child continues to show you up in every way and gets lots of praise for it and your shifu thinks you’re such a burden to train he gives you to his wife so they can use the children as a way to compete with each other.

And then you leave home and some guy sees this token which is literally the only thing you own that you had with you when you woke up with no memories, and says ‘You’re important. You’re the person we’ve been looking for all this time. We want you with us. You deserve the world’.

Like, I’m sorry. Who wouldn’t say yes in this situation? Shan Gudao, neglected and ignored and alone in the jianghu, was ripe to be groomed for this sort of thing. Why wouldn’t he get swept up in the daze of finally being someone that mattered to someone other than a child?

As far as literally everyone other than his shifu and shiniang are aware, Feng Qing is telling him the truth. But because they didn’t bother to tell even Li Xiangyi about this, let alone the other boy they didn’t even want, there was literally no way anyone could have known any better.

And the truth is, the descendant of Consort Xuan/Nanyin heir did have a right to the throne by blood in a way that the present Emperor of Da Xi very much did not. And how would Nanyin get the throne back if not by a coup? If the heroes had been the ‘true heirs’ to a throne then the coup would have been presented as a good thing to do. But I digress.

Joining Feng Qing and attempting to claim the throne he was led to believe was rightfully his actually makes sense given everything we know about Shan Gudao. They gave him a family and a home in a way that the dysfunctional shit going on on Yunyin Mountain never managed to provide.

Faking his own death

Technically not really a crime. Yeah Li Xiangyi got a bit sad about it but then we wouldn’t have got to see Cheng Yi weeping as he cradled his shixiong’s corpse in his arms. So really, we should all be thanking Shan Gudao for his totally normal and rational plans.

Killing his shifu

This is, technically, the worst crime that Shan Gudao actually commits. This being said. Looking at it from Shan Gudao’s point of view, Qi Mushan deserved it actually. I have already ranted about the fucked up way Qi Mushan and Qin Po raised their disciples and especially Shan Gudao and there’s no need to rehash all of it. But there are always a few extra things I have to say about Shan Gudao and his fuck-ass shifu.

At the end when Shan Gudao is, unsurprisingly, having a massive breakdown about how everything he has been told and made part of his personality for the past twenty years has all be a lie, Li Lianhua says ‘no one was ever competing with you’. And to an extent this is true. Li Xiangyi was not competing with him, from his point of view: they were just training together. But Qi Mushan and Qin Po were competing with each other using him. For Li Xiangyi, the younger child, the always-victor, this had the effect of bolstering his pride and arrogance, but being young (and proud and arrogant) he wouldn’t necessarily have noticed anything else about it. For Shan Gudao, who was forced to always compete with this child he could never beat, who was the tool that meant Qin Po would never be able to win? No wonder this fucked him up immensely.

When Qin Po finally decides to bother telling Li Lianhua about his heritage, she looks at Shan Gudao and LAUGHS at him and says ‘do you really think you were a nobleman from Nanyin? You were just a little beggar Qi Mushan and I took from a group of beggars’. Like wow, I can’t believe you have delusions of grandeur despite the fact that everyone in a position to know anything about you either refused to tell you anything or genuinely believed what they told you to be true. You pathetic beggar child. You should have known your place.

He should have killed her also xoxox

Throwing Fang Duobing into his torture-dungeon-pit-thing

This was also reasonably uncalled for. He’s not a particularly great dad. Do we blame this on the fact that Fang Duobing, like everyone else, chose Li Xiangyi over Shan Gudao? (If so that’s definitely on Shan Gudao, no wonder he didn’t pick you, stop bullying children) Or do we blame this, once again, on his shifu and shiniang using him as a tool to fight each other with? I will choose the latter for the sake of making a point.

ONE FINAL NOTE

Shan Gudao was looking after Li Xiangxian and Li Xiangyi on the streets. This child in episode 30, who is buying food for Li Xiangyi,

is the same as this child in episode 39, who is Shan Gudao.

He’s not someone who was inherently incredibly selfish. He wouldn’t have wasted his own resources on taking care of an unrelated child otherwise. He got an illness that gave him a brain injury bad enough that he forgot his entire past, and then was raised in competition with Li Xiangyi, however much Li Xiangyi was unaware of it.

In conclusion: everything is Qi Mushan’s fault. Thank you for coming to my TED talk

[stargazelasagna]

the fish p7

[rawelkmeat]

RAAAAAWR!

[bookwyrminspiration]

i want it to be you // what could have been

hey @everliving-everblaze I have a present for you <3

kotlc art taglist:

@bronte-deserves-better@imaramennoodle@thisbluewind@theofficialkai517@delphicstrawberries@thesandsofdawn@crumpledwitchfeet@ascendant-queen@axels-corner@loverofallthingssmart@silveny-dreams@girlofmanyfandoms@enbies-and-felonies@impostertamsong@sofia-not-sophie @alabestrine @keefes-hairgel @fanartofthelostcities@three-bunnies-in-a-trenchcoat@a-lonely-tatertot @cosmogyral-cleo @meg-doodles @dragonwinnie-kotlc@anaccidentwaitingtohappen@maglorslostsilmaril@even-if-in-another-time@crazedfangirl14@callas-pancake-tree@katniss-elizabeth-chase@wolfstar-being-ridikkulus@thefoxysnake@florida-preposterously@fandomsareforlife@deulalune@just-a-honey-badger

[its-jaytothemee]

Until I Met You - Chapter 37

Chapter 37: A Nice, Simple Plan

Pairings: Halsin x Tav

Word count: 5,819

Rating: Currently M, will be Explicit in later chapters.

Chapter 1

Read on AO3

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Summary: Tav continues to recover from her injuries. To her surprise, someone else stays behind in camp to watch over her. Part 37 of the slow burn fic. Tav and Halsin POVs.

Tags: Slow burn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, eventual love confessions, eventual smut, angst, implied past rape/non-con and abuse, graphic description of injuries, brief suicidal thoughts.

A/N: Chapters 37 AND 38 are being posted today!! Have a couple of fun camp chapters before we go back to the Gauntlet :)

When Tav finally woke up, she was in Last Light Inn, comfortably tucked into the blankets on the bed where she was resting.

A small stab of disappointment hit her when she saw Halsin standing next to the bed, staring out a window, his hands clasped behind his back. Guilt quickly followed the disappointment. After all, she was the one who told him he could set the pace for their relationship, and she meant it.

But at one point in the night, she could have sworn she felt his arms holding her. She could have sworn she felt herself nestled safely against his chest, felt the soft beating of his heart against her ear, felt his cheek nuzzle the top of her head.

It must have just been a nice dream she was having.

“Good morning,” she said as she stretched under the covers.

Halsin spun around when he heard her voice, a soft smile curling his lips.

“Good morning, Tav.” He came over to sit next to her on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got the shit beat out of me by a pack of angry earth elementals,” she groaned. Every muscle in her body was sore.

“Yes, we shall have to take Karlach’s word more seriously in the future if we deal with any other devilish creatures.”

Halsin took one of her hands to help pull her up to a seated position. His hand was on her upper back to help keep her upright.

“Here, lean back,” he moved her back toward the headboard, “let me take away some of that soreness.”

She relaxed as the familiar, soothing magic worked its way into her muscles.

“That’s much better, thank you.”

“Anytime.” He squeezed her shoulder.

“Is everyone else still at camp?”

“As far as I’m aware, yes. I think it’s still rather early for them to be awake.”

“Are they…are they okay? Was anyone else hurt?” she asked hesitantly, dreading the answer.

“Everyone is fine, my friend,” he assured her. “Potions would have been more than sufficient to take care of their wounds.”

She nodded, relieved.

“If you’re feeling up to it, I’m sure the others would like to wake up and find you there safe and sound.” Halsin was holding one of her hands now, his thumb rubbing small circles into hers. “Not to mention Lunari has probably paced a moat around camp.”

“Sounds good to me.” Tav swung her legs over the edge of the bed to stand up and nearly fell on her face.

Halsin had gotten an arm around her waist in time, keeping her up on her feet.

“Easy,” he moved her back onto the bed, “give yourself time to adjust.”

Tav threw herself back on the mattress with an irritated huff.

“Ugh, I hate feeling this helpless,” she mumbled as she covered her face with her hands.

“You are not helpless,” Halsin chuckled. “You have just come back from a near death experience. Shaky limbs are quite common after such an ordeal.”

She just grunted back at him. When she uncovered her eyes though, his expression had shifted. He looked…frightened.

“You did nearly die, Tav.” She could see the faintest shine of tears in his eyes.

“I seem to have a habit of doing that lately.”

“And yet,” he rested a hand on her knee, “it doesn’t get any easier to see you in such a state.”

“At least you were there with me this time.”

She watched the small trembles in his lips and chin. Before she could say anything else, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up into a hug.

“I’ve thanked the Oak Father every moment since,” he whispered into her ear.

Tav smiled and relaxed into his arms, content to be held until her legs would let her stand again.

“Now, let’s try and get you on your feet, shall we?” He stood up and offered his hand.

“Of course, I’d hate to miss whatever breakfast Gale has planned.” She happily took it and leaned onto his side.

“Here,” Halsin grabbed a folded piece of fabric and handed it to her, “it’s a bit chilly out to be in only that tunic.”

Tav looked down and immediately blushed, realizing the tunic she wore beneath her armor was all she was wearing. The garment barely covered her ass, and she just now realized how cold it was based on the two, pointed nubs on her chest peeking through the thin fabric.

She quickly unfolded the large blanket and draped it around her shoulders. Halsin’s arm helped keep it in place as he held her closer to his side.

“You didn’t have to cut up another set of my armor, did you?” Tav asked, only half-joking.

Halsin let out an amused snort. “Not this time. Karlach took it back to camp with them along with your pack.”

“Thank the gods,” Tav laughed, “I fought a fucking lava monster for that armor. I don’t think I could have forgiven you for destroying it.”

“It is good to have you back, my friend.” Halsin squeezed her a little tighter as they started their walk out of Last Light.

“Ah, you’re still with us, I see.”

They turned to see Jaheira sitting at a nearby table poring over some letters.

“Good morning, Jaheira.” Tav stood up a little straighter as she came over to talk with them.

“You gave us quite the fright, little ranger. How are you feeling this morning?"

“Sore, like I got dropped from the top of Wyrm’s Rock. But I can stand again so that’s something.”

“That is to be expected. And just where do you think you are going?” Jaheira folded her arms over her chest.

Tav gave her a baffled look. “Back to our camp. I wanted to be there when everyone woke up.”

“I’ll accompany the two of you. Should you run into trouble you’re in no condition to fight, I’m afraid, and that would leave poor Halsin alone to defend you and fight off attackers.”

“Your company is always welcome, Jaheira,” Halsin said from beside her.

Tav could feel her face growing red.

“I’m not a child. I can handle myself,” she snapped a little more viciously than intended. They both recoiled at her words.

“Then stop acting like one and let us help you,” Jaheira shot back without skipping a beat.

Halsin gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

“Of course,” Tav sighed, “I’m sorry, I’m just not feeling like myself.”

“Yes, being blown up will leave you in that state. Ergo, the offer for help.”

“Thank you, Jaheira.”

She nodded back. “Let me collect my weapons and we can be on our way.”

Jaheira turned on her heels to grab her things.

“And if you were just hoping to use this time to hold hands and giggle with one another, at least walk behind me so I don’t have to see it.” She called the words nonchalantly over her shoulder as if they weren’t the most embarrassing thing Tav could hear at the moment.

Their short walk was uneventful, much to Tav’s relief. She wasn’t sure she had the energy to handle any ‘I told you so’ looks or quips from Jaheira. Instead, she and Halsin filled Jaheira in on what they found in the Gauntlet so far. She listened in troubled silence as they recounted the fortress, no doubt feeling the same betrayal of finding such a place beneath Reithwin.

Lunari came rushing at them when they returned. She nuzzled Tav’s legs and licked at her hands.

“I’m alright, girl,” Tav whispered to her. “What have you been doing while I was gone?”

“Playing,” she said, wagging her tail. “The new little boy likes to play with me.”

She tilted her head back toward Thaniel who was camped outside of Halsin’s tent.

“Speaking of which,” his arm dropped from her shoulders, “I should go and check on Thaniel. Meet us back out here when you’re dressed?”

“Of course.”

“Come Jaheira, I’ll introduce you to him.”

Halsin had a big smile on his face as he waved for Jaheira to follow him. Tav dragged her feet toward her tent, barely able to get them lifted off the ground for each step. Despite the extra healing from Halsin, her shoulders and arms still ached horribly.

There’s no way I’ll be able to draw my bow like this.

Tav groaned at the thought before casting a spell on herself, barely alleviating the soreness in her joints. As she changed into something more comfortable, she wondered if she would be able to ask for more healing from Halsin without making him suspicious or worrying him further.

The small hiss of pain as she pulled her shirt down over her chest told her it was unlikely.

This is going to be a long day.

***

“I do not know what I expected to see when I met the spirit of this land, but a mischievous little fey boy was not quite what I pictured.” Jaheira added a few more twigs to the dying fire.

“Mischievous indeed,” Halsin chuckled, “we used to get into all sorts of trouble together. Pranks on the elders, rousing games of hide and seek, sneaking into the kitchen to snag a honey cake from beneath my mother’s nose…”

“Sounds like you were quite the little scandal yourself, Archdruid.”

“I suppose I used to be,” he admitted. “Back when I had time for such things.”

Tav joined them by the fire again once she had changed into her normal casual clothes, looking much more comfortable.

“There we are,” she said, grunting as she took a seat next to him, “good as new.”

He let out an amused snort. “I’ll believe you when you don’t have to grunt from the effort of sitting down.”

“Eh, I’m fine. Just a little sore.” She waved a dismissive hand in the air. He took it in his once it came back down.

“Tav, I’m going to ask something of you, and I need you to consider it.”

“Okay…”

“I think you should take another day to recover before joining us again.”

She pressed her lips into a hard line and flared her nostrils. Jaheira snorted behind him.

She’s taking this just as well as I would have thought.

“Halsin, I can’t–”

“Tav, please,” he pleaded with her. “I carried your nearly lifeless body across Reithwin. I listened to your ragged breaths, praying between each one that it wouldn’t be the last. It took four skilled healers to get you back on your feet. Do not go and risk your life again so readily. At least not until gather your strength once more.”

Her expression softened.

“Please, for me.” Halsin held her hand close to his chest.

He could see the conflict plain on her face. She didn’t want to stay behind; he knew how much she would hate knowing everyone else was risking their own lives while she sat in camp. But he would ask it of her anyway. The mere thought of seeing her in such a state again brought tears back to his eyes.

“Okay, Halsin. I’ll stay in camp for one more day. One day.”

“That is all I ask,” he said with a relieved smile. “I’m sure by tomorrow you’ll be back to your normal self.”

Her sullen expression threatened to break his resolve, but he knew this was for the best. At least it didn’t last long since Karlach had come running over to the fire. Tav had a bright smile on her face by the time Karlach threw her arms around her.

“Sweet hells, you scared me, sis!” she yelled into Tav’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Tav, I should have remembered the invisibility spell and told you more about those explosives–”

“It’s okay, Karlach, it wasn’t your fault,” Tav assured her as she hugged her back. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Gods, I really thought you were done for.” She sniffled as she took the seat on the other side of Tav. “You didn’t even remember us when you woke up, or your own name. You kept saying it was ‘Ria’ anytime we’d talk to you.”

Halsin caught the flash of panic that came over Tav’s face. Her eyes went wide, and her breath hitched. He could have sworn he saw a flash of something in Jaheira’s eyes as well.

“Yeah, Halsin said I had a bit of memory loss. But it’s all back now, I assure you.” Tav recovered quickly and nudged Karlach in the side. “I remember every gory detail about our travels together.”

“Good, that’s good. And you know…about today…if you’re still feeling a little run down you could always, I don’t know, stay here in camp for a bit?”

Halsin smirked watching Karlach rub her arms and neck alongside the nervous twitches in her tail.

“It’s okay, Karlach. Halsin already convinced me to stay here.”

“Oh, whew, that’s even better. Thought I was going to have to knock you out.” Karlach let out a relieved laugh.

“Ah, yes, the perfect treatment for a head injury. More head injury,” Tav joked.

Halsin felt a goofy smile break out on his face. Gods he was happy to hear her lighthearted teasing again.

“Oh! Morning Jaheira!” Karlach peered around Halsin to wave at her. “Are you staying with us now too?”

“Ha! No.” Jaheira shook her head. “Just took a little walk to make sure these two foolhardy elves didn’t get into trouble on the way back from Last Light.”

“And don’t worry, we won’t do anything too fun without you today. I don’t even think we’re going back to the Gauntlet yet,” Karlach continued.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, Shadowheart says she needs some more time to prepare for those trials anyway, so we’re just going to do some more recon around Moonrise. Figure we should be as familiar as possible before we have to take the big fight to them, you know?”

“Good,” Jaheira responded, “that means you can walk me back to Last Light on the way.”

“I’d be honored, High Harper.” Karlach beamed back at her.

“Well, that area is still dangerous, just be careful…please.” Tav reached over to squeeze Karlach’s hand.

“You worry too much.” She waved her off. “Besides, we’ll have Halsin with us and he knows this place better than anyone.”

“That’s true.” Tav turned to smile at him.

One by one, their companions emerged from their tents, everyone radiating relief when they saw Tav sitting between Halsin and Karlach. Even Shadowheart seemed to relax a little when she spotted them. Strangely, Astarion was the quietest of everyone.

Halsin had expected to hear sass from him, or any manner of jokes in regard to Tav’s near death, or some suggestive quip about the two of them remaining at Last Light together all night. Instead, he almost seemed…ashamed.

Tav continued to look a little awkward as others fussed around her. For once, Halsin wasn’t the one insisting that she sit still for a moment. Gale brought her some food, Karlach returned her backpack, and Astarion came over holding a crossbow of some kind.

“Here,” he held the small weapon out to her in one hand, “we plucked this off the orthon. I thought you might like it since you…shoot arrows and such.”

“Oh, that’s sweet of you to offer, Astarion, but I’m not one for triggers on bows.” Tav waved him off with a small laugh.

Astarion’s shoulders slumped as he let his arm drop to his side. “Ah, I see. My apologies.”

Halsin gave him an inquisitive look. The others stopped moving for a moment, all eyes warily on Astarion. It wasn’t like him to take a jest from her so seriously. They often exchanged snarky comments back and forth at least three times before one of them finally gave up. Tav tensed beside him, her face twisting with guilt.

“B-besides,” she added, stumbling over her words a bit, “a hand crossbow like that is much more suited to your fighting style. Seems to be well crafted by the looks of it, too. You should keep it.”

“Of course.” Astarion cracked a small smile before setting the crossbow aside and taking a seat across from them.

Everyone quieted their chatter at his gloomy disposition.

“Okay, well, far be it from me to delay you from your adventuring today.” Tav stood up with a groan. “I’m off to lie down for a bit.”

Halsin stood with her, offering an arm for her to take. He doubted he would ever tire of the feel of her arm gently wrapping around his. Although it had only lasted a few hours this morning, he was already certain he would never tire of the feel of her wrapped in his arms either. He wanted to walk slower, take as much time as possible with her before he left for the day, but their camp wasn’t exactly large, so they arrived at her tent rather quickly.

“Get some more rest, Tav.” He let her arm drop from his, but as she turned to go inside, he caught her hand once more.

“I…” He looked down at their hands, wanting to say more. Wanting to beg her to let him stay there with her, holding her close and watching over her. But he knew that he was needed elsewhere for the day.

“I hope you feel better,” he sighed.

“Thank you.” She squeezed his hand. “Keep an eye on everyone for me, yeah?”

“Of course.”

Halsin waited to join the others again until she had settled in her tent.

“So, where do we start today, bear man?” Karlach asked through a mouthful of food.

He tried not to let his anxiety show as he once again looked into expectant eyes waiting for his decision.

“We’ll start at the tollhouse and make our way through town. With any luck, we’ll have the area scouted before midday.”

More like a dragon’s hoard worth of luck.

***

Halsin was right, Tav had desperately needed more rest. She woke up in her tent, groggy and with drool dripping down the side of her mouth.

Lunari gave a soft whine at her movement.

“Hey, girl,” Tav mumbled as she tangled a hand into her thick fur.

“Your wolf is beautiful,” a small voice caused her eyes to snap the rest of the way open.

Tav bolted upright to see Thaniel sitting on the other side of Lunari.

“Oh, hello Thaniel,” Tav let out a soft laugh as her heart rate slowed back to normal. “You startled me, love.”

He just grinned back at her.

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” She smiled as the wolf rolled over on her back to let Thaniel scratch her stomach.

“It has been a long time since I have gotten to enjoy the company of animals,” he said wistfully. It was strange to hear such a tone out of someone who looked like a small child.

“That must have been difficult for you.” Tav pushed the rest of the fatigue still left over from her trance. “Halsin told me a bit about you, about your connection to this land.”

Thaniel kept his eyes fixed on Lunari, his innocent smile still shining bright. “Halsin Silverbough is a good friend – to me, and to nature. It was frightening being trapped in the Shadowfell, but I always knew he would make his way back. I know how he mourned after the shadows took over the land. I could feel it.”

“You could feel it?” Tav cocked her head to the side.

“His grief was heavy, Tav. Heavy enough to cut through the planes, heavy enough to draw the attention of Silvanus. I could hear his pleas, his promises that he would return, but I was not strong enough to speak with him.”

She listened to Thaniel speak about his time imprisoned, locked away from nature and his home. She felt her heart grow heavier as she told him about the misery Halsin lived in while he studied a way to banish the shadows.

“He feels much lighter now,” Thaniel continued. “Like a great weight was lifted from his very soul.”

“He was beyond happy to find you alive, Thaniel.” Tav reached over and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I know how much you mean to him.”

“Not only that,” his grin took on a more impish shape, “I think you helped lift that weight too, Tav.”

“I was happy to help bring you back, love,” she assured him.

“Be that as it may, my return was not what brought the light back into his life. He was already shining brighter before he crossed the threshold of this land.”

Tav bit back a smile. “You’re a cheeky little thing, you know?”

“I am a fey, after all. Mischief is in my blood.”

When Halsin said Thaniel had the essence of the forest in his eyes, she had a hard time picturing what he meant. Now, staring into them, she still found it hard to describe. She watched as they shifted, taking on different colors, each of them more breathtaking than the last.

Looking at Thaniel now, she could easily tell why he was so important to Halsin, how their friendship could have lasted hundreds of years.

“I’m happy that you and Oliver are safe, Thaniel. I’ll do what I can to make sure you stay that way, that you get to see the sun shining on your home again.” She fought back tears welling in her eyes.

“Thank you. It is nice to have new companions that take care of nature’s creations as well.” Thaniel stood up.

“We shall speak again soon, once Halsin returns.”

Tav nodded as he walked out of her tent. Lunari followed, undoubtedly hoping to coax more belly rubs from him.

She decided to get up and stretch a bit. The pain had subsided from her body, but gods was she stiff.

To her surprise, Tav found Astarion pacing around the fire when she left her tent. He was still holding the small crossbow, mindlessly plucking at its string.

“Careful fiddling with that,” she called out, “you’ll end up with too much slack in the string.”

Despite her soft voice, he jumped.

“Tav!” he blurted out her name. “You…you’re awake.”

“Yeah, I guess Halsin was right,” she pulled at a piece of hair hanging past her shoulder. “I just needed a little bit more rest.”

“Oh, of course…that’s…that’s good.” He placed the crossbow on his belt and started wringing his hands in front of him.

“Are you alright, love? I didn’t expect to see anyone else staying in camp today.”

“Well, I sort of erm, volunteered. You know, to make sure you didn’t try and die on us again.” He flashed a sarcastic grin at her. “Honestly, Tav, you really ought to be more careful when teleporting yourself around a battlefield without any awareness of your surroundings. Anyone with eyes could have seen that bomb sitting there, you lunatic. But no, you just went charging in as usual…”

As Astarion continued berating her, she felt herself bristling at his words. After all, the only reason they were fighting that orthon in the first place was to help him.

She was ready to exchange insults in the same grouchy tone, until she caught the shine of tears in his eyes.

“It wasn’t your problem to deal with, Tav. Why would you just throw yourself at a fucking orthon like that?!”

A small crack in his voice let the realization settle over her.

He felt guilty that she had gotten hurt. If she didn’t know any better, Tav would say he had been scared.

She forced herself to soften her expression.

“I knew how important it was to you to get that information from Raphael, Astarion.”

“I thought you died, Tav,” he snapped. “Had Halsin and Shadowheart not been there, you would have died.”

“I’m sorry if I worried you, love,” she responded softly. “But I’m fine now. It was sweet of you to stay behind.”

She took a seat by the fire, patting the spot next to her.

“Well,” the muscles in his forehead relaxed and the teasing gleam in his eyes returned, “I am nothing if not sweet.” To her relief, he came and sat beside her.

Tav bumped their shoulders together, bringing a small smile to his face.

“There was actually another reason I stayed behind today,” he continued, his voice quiet. “I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

“Oh?”

“I erm...” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The other day, with the drow, I still can’t quite shake the encounter out of my head.”

She cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brow.

“You stood up for me. You…supported me.” Astarion averted his gaze to the ground.

“Of course I did,” Tav smiled at him, “she was being a real piece of shit.”

“Be that as it may, I still feel the need to say…thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, Astarion.” Tav flashed him a friendly smile, but he looked like he had more on his mind. “Is there something else?”

“It’s just that it wasn’t like me to deny her. I was being too foolish, wasn’t I? That potion could have been useful. Especially considering how that fight with the orthon went.”

“But…” Tav tried to keep up with his thoughts. “If you didn’t want to bite her, then that’s the end of the discussion. Useful potion or not.”

“All it would have cost me was a moment of unpleasantry. I could have gritted my teeth as usual and let her have me for a bit.” He continued speaking almost as if he didn’t hear her.

As usual?

The look on his face had grown distant.

“It makes me sad to hear you talk about yourself like that, love,” Tav whispered back.

“Why? I’m only being realistic. What could be more desirable than a vampire, darling?” His flirty quip was weakened by the misty haze clouding his eyes.

“At least that’s what I thought,” he continued, quickly drying the tears before they could fall, “so imagine my frustration when you wouldn’t fall for my charms.”

“What?” Tav blinked at him, certain that she heard him wrong.

“Oh Tav, I pulled out all the stops to try and seduce you, but you were having none of it. I had a nice, simple plan. One that hinged on you being driven mad with lust but apparently this tadpole has also eaten away some of my charm.”

“I…” Tav could feel her cheeks and ears burning. “I didn’t realize that was something you wanted.”

“Well, it wasn’t wanted, per se, I mean you’re a pretty little thing, don’t get me wrong.” He waved his hand in front of his face. “I just thought that if I could get you into bed, you’d be less likely to abandon me somewhere. Everyone wants something in return, my dear.”

She stayed silent, no words coming to mind that could be of comfort to him.

“But I had nothing for so long, nothing to barter with, nothing to buy my freedom. I didn’t even have my body – that belonged to Cazador. Sending me out to lure poor fools back to him. I thought I had learned my lesson. To take every little advantage you can get and yet…I turned the drow down.

“I have bedded thousands of people. I hardly remember half of them. And even more still didn’t grant me so much as temporary bliss. It should have been easy to let that drow use me for her fantasy.”

“I would never ask you to do that,” Tav assured him.

“I know,” that genuine smile came back to his face, warm and soft, “you’ve shown me I don’t need to. That I have the strength to make my own decisions.”

“Of course you do, Astarion. You just needed the time to figure out how.”

“You gave me the strength to be able to admit I…care for you.”

Tav’s heart dropped for a moment. As sweet as the sentiment was, she didn’t have romantic feelings for him. She cared for him deeply, but as a friend. As a brother.

Please, Astarion, please don’t say you’re in love with me.

“You have been my first friend in two centuries, Tav. The first person to not want me for my body, to not want me for sex and nothing else. I don’t…” He let out a frustrated grunt.

“I don’t know how to put it into words. Because I don’t want that kind of relationship with you, but for some reason I still want to be close to you.”

Tav breathed a relieved sigh. “Astarion, that’s called having friends. You should feel that kind of care and attachment to your close friends, even without romance and sex.”

“I’ve never felt that with anyone in the last two hundred years,” he admitted in a small voice.

“Then let me put your mind at ease, my friend.”

She reached over and took one of his hands.

“I care for you too, Astarion. Not for your body, not for your pretty face or perfect curly hair. I like you because despite all of the horrible things that have been done to you, you’re reaching out and trying to be better. Because even though it went against your better judgement, you’ve supported me throughout our travels. I love being around you because I have fun with you, and I know you have my back.”

His red eyes shone with tears in the firelight. Tav didn’t realize just how round and soft they were until now.

“I care for you because you have become a dear friend to me, dare I say a brother.”

“That’s…that’s a relief to hear, I suppose,” he said with a quiet chuckle.

Tav started to reach out again but hesitated. Astarion didn’t flinch away like he had so many times before, so she moved one of her hands up to rest on his shoulder. Then the other. He hadn’t pulled away yet, so she drew him into a hug. It took him a moment, but he was able to reach up and hug her back. The feel of those white curls against her cheek threatened to bring her grief crashing back down on her, so she held him a little tighter.

“For what it’s worth,” she said when she finally released him from her embrace, “Cazador Szarr was hated by pretty much anyone of real importance in the Upper City.”

“And how in the nine hells would you know that?” he asked.

“Oh, uh,” Tav started to panic as she scolded herself for her carelessness, “I grew up near the Upper City. My mother was a talented seamstress and got a good job working for one of the shops there. I was lucky enough to attend a few parties in my time.” It wasn’t a total lie.

“Ah, I always sensed just a hint of refinement about you under all that dirt and grime, darling,” he aimed his dazzling, fanged smile at her. “And yes, it does make me feel better to know his obvious grabs for power were as transparent as they felt.”

She took a shaky breath to keep her composure.

“Which shop?”

“What?”

“Where does your mother work? There’s such a fine selection of tailors in the Upper City, but to grant you invitations to parties? She must have been capable indeed.”

Tav froze, for some reason she tended to forget how intimately familiar with the city some of her new companions were.

“Let’s see, was it the Facemaker’s Boutique? Not in the Upper City, but Pennygood does cater to many of the lesser families.”

Seeing no reaction from her, he continued listing various shops.

“The Lion’s Mane? Alluring Threads? Surely not The Orchid’s Oasis?”

The last name caused her eyes to go wide.

“Ah,” Astarion caught the panic in her expression. “So, your mother works for the Mendelre family?”

“She…she did, yes,” Tav stammered.

“That is an impressive connection.” Astarion’s voice was full of admiration with just a touch of jealousy. “From what I understand that shop is booked out for months. You’re lucky to just get in and browse the selection.”

“The owner always curated the best pieces from what I understand,” Tav whispered. She hoped her voice was quiet enough that he couldn’t hear the cracks.

“Yes, well, over the last few decades the list grew longer and longer. As I’m sure you know, the owner is still Lady Omylia Mendelre herself. Ever since they lost their daughter all those years ago, it seems her inspiration has waned. Then again, that could just be the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette reaching for words to fill their pages.” He rolled his eyes.

Tav surprised herself with the tears filling her eyes. Surely it was just gossip, her mother wouldn’t have cared so much about her disappearance that she would have let her work suffer…would she?

My most perfect model…

While lost in her thoughts, she had given up all pretense of hiding her emotions.

There was a brief flicker across Astarion’s face, something resembling a vague recognition as he stared at her. She could see him trying to make connections in his mind. It wasn’t until now that she realized, out of all her companions, he was the only one who might actually know who she was. The only other person from Baldur’s Gate who would have been alive when she left the city.

Beneath the scars, freckles, and added muscle, he might just be able to piece together that she was that long-lost daughter.

She chuckled to break the silence. “I don’t want to bore you talking about Baldur’s Gate fashion gossip.”

He nodded slowly, those piercing red eyes still studying her features.

“Oh, but there’s so much gossip to be had, my friend.” His expression shifted to be less serious. “I’m sure you can tell some tales about terrible high fashion if you were in attendance of those lavish events.”

If you only knew.

She tucked a curl behind his ear, still desperate to steer the conversation away from her family. “So, despite me ruining your nice, simple plan, I hope being friends can be enough for you.”

He reached out to take her hand, seeming content to drop the subject. “I can’t say that I’ve ever really had a friend before. I’m not quite sure what to do now that I have one but this…I know this is nice.”

Before she could say anything else, she heard voices approaching their camp. The others must have returned.

Tav gave him another smile before dropping his hand.

“You owe me nothing, I hope you know that.”

“I do. Thank you, Tav.”

That was a close call.

She took a few steadying breaths, thankful that her past remained known only to her.

For now.

[wastelandsunrise]

Pgs 16-17 🐎

[thanatosaria]

sayana portrait i did a while back! ✨

[nymphrasis]

* 🛸　.　　•.  　🌎　°　.•　🌓　•　　.°•　　•　🚀 ✯.    •.    .  •.  　.　•　★　*  

What's that? Do I hear more Marsha art update (^x^)/?

Doodle POV of where you encounter your dad, finding out that he isn't dead. Ended up embracing each other, happy to be reunited once more!

 * 🛸　.　　•.  　🌎　°　.•　🌓　•　　.°•　　•　🚀 ✯.    •.    .  •.  　.　•　★　*

[atticwindowatdawn]

I always wanted to get better at cc-free buidling soooo I wanted to try and here are these 3 houses located in Willow Creek, Courtyard Lane 🏡

They're very rundown, homey, cozy and old. I imagine they've been passed down through at least 2 generations and need some work done 🤷‍♀️ Or if you're like me and like old stuff, enjoy them as they are!

Gallery ID: atticwindow

You can find all of them on the Gallery but I also uploaded the tray files if you prefer that way!

They are fully furnished and 2 of them got basements and one of them a tiny pool in the backyard. I'll stop yapping and you can check out more screenshots under the cut. Enjoy! ♥

download (sfs): Rindle Rose | Pique Hearth | Riverside Roost

Rindle Rose 20x15 (I totally forgot that I built the basement and haven't furnished it I'm sorry, but it's there if you need it!)

Pique Hearth 30x20

Riverside Roost 30x20

[alettom]

The Hunger Games characters as described in the books Pt2: Peeta Mellark 🥖

Guys, I am SO SORRY I totally forgot to keep uploading the series over here on Tumblr lmaooo. Anyways here’s the boy with the bread 🧡

[denimizu]

I totally did not forgot to upload this one on here... GLUP

[erodasfishtacos]

My Heart's in Overdrive (& You're Behind the Steering Wheel)

prompt: harry can't catch a break, can't give an explanation, and can only watch how things play out

word count: 3.5k

warnings: angsts, descriptions of anxiety, anxiety attacks, depression

author's note:

I upload a piece of writing every 1-2 days.

There are multiple other parts of this up and will be updated this month

I recently started a second tier called The OG Tier where 2

one shots (1-4kish) are posted a week.

There are currently 350 + pieces available to read

Tier I - $3 USD where you get access to main stories, everything except the mini one shots.

Tier II - $5 USD where you get access to every piece of writing!

you can check it out here

first FIFTEEN to click here can get a free $5 membership for a month!

-

PART I & PART II

Harry was spiraling.

His mind raced as he tried to formulate an escape plan from the PR date with Tessa. 

He had no recollection of signing the contract, yet there it was, his signature staring back at him like an ironclad promise when Sonny forwarded it to him after getting off the phone call. 

He must have agreed to this at some point, perhaps in a moment of weakness or sheer oversight but he really tried to avoid these types of things.


Even when YN wasn't back in the picture, Harry never enjoyed going on scheduled dates with more pressure than when there aren’t paparazzi and PR teams breathing down his neck.

Regardless, it was binding, and now he had to figure out how to explain it to YN.

God, YN. How was he supposed to tell her? 

Every time they seemed to make progress, something always pulled them back, and this time, it was his fault yet again.

It was like a cruel cycle, one where YN put in all the effort, consistently showing up, prioritizing their relationship, while he let his career obligations dictate their course. 

He wanted to be the kind of partner she deserved, someone who balanced it all effortlessly, but he just kept failing.

Now, he felt caged, not by steel bars or shackles, but by ink on paper—contracts, commitments, and obligations he had no way of breaking without severe consequences. 

The industry was ruthless, and if he backed out, he would be dealing with more than just YN’s disappointment. 

Legal battles, financial repercussions, and a tarnished reputation loomed over him like a dark cloud. 

He couldn't afford to be reckless, not when so many people depended on him.

But YN deserved more than this. 

More than him constantly expecting her to understand, to be flexible, to accept being second priority. 

He had leaned on that grace too many times before, and each time, it chipped away at their foundation.

When he tried to call her, it went straight to voicemail. 

A sinking feeling settled in his gut as he checked their text messages and saw that she had put her phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ for the night.

Fuck.

He couldn’t tell her over text.

How would he even phrase it?

Hey, thanks for the phone sex. By the way, I have a PR date tomorrow morning. Forgot to mention it, but don’t worry—it’s just with the face of Levi’s and totally meaningless.

Yeah, that would go over well.

He wasn’t stupid.

He remembered the comments she had made about his dating history, about his pattern of dating models. 

He could already picture the look on her face when she found out. 

It wasn’t just about the date—it was about what it represented, about the ways it reaffirmed her fears, her insecurities, the ways he had hurt her before. 

This wasn’t just another misstep. 

It was another confirmation that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as important to him as she should be. 

And that wasn’t true. 

It wasn’t. 

Because if they had been talking at the point, Harry would have never signed something like that.

Ever ever ever.

But how could he convince her of that when everything pointed to the opposite?

A tightness gripped his chest, his breathing becoming shallow as his body flooded with panic. 

The weight of it clawed at him, rising up his throat, making his entire body feel like it was on fire. 

He recognized the signs of an anxiety attack before it fully took hold. 

Without thinking, he moved off the bed and into the bathroom, turning the shower on. 

The water was lukewarm, leaning towards cold as he stepped under it, grunting at the ice pelting against the heat of his tender skin.

He needed to ground himself, to regain control, but it wasn’t working.

YN. 

He needed YN.

She was the only one who ever knew how to de-escalate him. 

The only one who could tell when he was getting overwhelmed before he even noticed it himself. 

She had always been that person for him, the calm in the storm, the one who never wavered.

++

YN had always been the calm one, the emotionally regulated anchor in a world that often felt crazy and unpredictable. 

No matter how chaotic the situation or how intense the emotions around her, YN remained a steady presence, someone who could be relied upon to bring balance when everything else seemed to be falling apart.. 

Where others might react impulsively or allow their emotions to take control, YN always found a way to maintain her composure. 

She didn’t rush into decisions or speak without thought; instead, she took the time to process her feelings, allowing herself to fully understand them before responding.

While her friends were often swept up in the storm of their own inner worlds—tossed between the highs of fleeting joy and the lows of uncertainty—YN remained anchored. 

People often marveled at her ability to handle even the most difficult situations with such ease.

Whether it was dealing with a personal conflict, facing an academic challenge, or simply navigating the everyday ups and downs of teenage life, YN always seemed to handle everything with poise. 

Her ability to stay calm in the face of stress wasn’t just a skill; it was a natural part of who she was, a defining characteristic that made her not only emotionally mature for her age but also incredibly wise beyond her years.

Sometimes, YN would get called ‘possessive’ or ‘jealous’ by other girls, and while the words stung, they never quite understood the reality of the situation.

 The assumptions made about her stemmed from one simple fact—no one else ever really got a chance alone with Harry.

 It wasn’t for lack of trying on their part; they all wanted their opportunity to charm him, to see if they could catch his attention, to experience what it would be like to have his undivided focus on them for even a few minutes. 

But it never seemed to happen.

YN was always there, ‘hogging’ him, as they put it, as if he were a prized possession rather than a person with his own agency.

But that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

What they failed to see, what they never took the time to understand, was the unspoken language that existed between YN and Harry. 

They didn’t notice the small, intimate moments that passed between them, the subtle ways they reassured one another, the effortless way they navigated social situations as a unit. \

They didn’t see how, upon arriving at the bonfire at their friend’s house, Harry had gently tugged YN’s hand before she could wander too far, his fingers latching onto hers with a kind of desperation that most people wouldn’t have caught. 

His voice, laced with the kind of nervous energy that only she could recognize, had been quiet but firm when he murmured, “Nut, don’t go too far, please.”

And she understood. 

She always did.

 She didn’t roll her eyes or dismiss his worry. 

She simply nodded, offering him a warm smile that told him she wasn’t going anywhere. 

“I won’t,” YN promised.

Years later, when Harry looked back on this time in his life, he would be struck by how profound their communication had been, how mature their connection was despite their age. 

They had operated on a level far beyond their years, always seeming ot balancing each other out in ways that most adults still struggled to achieve.

“What’s your number?” She had asked him then, her voice soft yet steady, knowing exactly what he needed without him having to say it outright.

“A five,” Harry had replied quietly, almost ashamed to admit it. 

There had been a time when he resented the question, when it made him feel weak, as though acknowledging his anxiety somehow diminished his strength as a man. 

He had been conditioned to believe that vulnerability equated to weakness, that expressing discomfort was something to be embarrassed about. 

But YN had helped him see the truth—that it was okay to feel this way, that it didn’t make him any less of a man.

If anything, it made him stronger.

YN would always remind him in a teasing but truthful tone, “Vulnerability is sexy.”

Despite his social anxiety, Harry never let it stand in the way of being there for YN. 

If someone was giving her a hard time, he wouldn’t hesitate to step in. 

If she needed defending, he was her first line of protection. 

His anxiety never existed in those moments because his love for her was bigger than the fear that usually controlled him. 

He put her first—always even when it meant pushing his own emotions aside.

And yet, he hadn’t realized just how much she had helped him, just how much he had relied on her, until she was gone.

He got too comfortable.

When they broke up, everything unraveled. 

Suddenly, he was alone in social situations, navigating unfamiliar territory without the safety net she had unknowingly provided. 

There was no buffer anymore, no one to subtly swoop in with an excuse when things got too overwhelming, no one to read the slight changes in his demeanor and pull him aside before the panic took hold.

Instead, he was left to face it all on his own, and the weight of it was crushing.

It wasn’t just the heartbreak of losing YN that drained him; it was the combination of grief and his anxiety spiraling unchecked.

It became a vicious cycle—his anxiety feeding into his depression, his depression making his anxiety worse. 

Every social event, every team function, every new situation felt unbearable without her presence beside him. 

He hadn’t even begun to recover when he attempted therapy, but that, too, had left him feeling even more lost.

The therapist’s skepticism had been like a slap to the face.

“If you are as anxious as you say, why would you ever choose to be a professional football player?”

The question had floored him.

He hadn’t known how to answer it. 

It wasn’t that he had chosen this career because it was easy for him—it was that football was the one place where his anxiety didn’t control him. 

On the field, he wasn’t the nervous guy struggling to make small talk at a team dinner. 

He was fast, he was focused, he was powerful. 

Football had been his escape, the only place where his mind quieted long enough for him to feel normal. 

But the therapist hadn’t understood that. 

Instead of helping him work through his struggles, they had made him doubt himself even more.

After that session, he never went back.

His anxiety continued to gnaw at him, unchecked, until it became suffocating. 

The only thing that seemed to help, even just a little, was the cold water. 

Showers, swimming pools, ice baths—it didn’t matter, as long as he could feel the chill against his skin. 

The shock of it helped calm his body down, helped pull him back from the brink when he felt like he was drowning in his own thoughts.

Still, even as the water rushed over him, he couldn’t escape the feeling of being completely and utterly exhausted. 

His breathing was just as heavy as if he had just sprinted the length of a football field, chest heaving, throat dry and burning from the lack of oxygen making its way into his lungs. 

No matter how much he tried to steady himself, to ground himself, it never felt like enough.

And maybe, deep down, he knew why.

Because without YN there to remind him to breathe, to hold his hand when the world felt like too much, he was still learning how to do it on his own.

++

Sleep didn’t come easy that night. 

Harry tossed and turned, his mind restless, his body unable to settle. 

Every few minutes, he reached for his phone, checking and rechecking to see if she had texted back. 

The silence from her end was deafening, and with every passing hour, his anxiety only deepened.

The breakfast date was scheduled for eight-thirty in the morning at a local restaurant that was well-known for being a hotspot for celebrities. 

It was the kind of place where paparazzi loitered, hoping to catch a scandalous photo or an unexpected encounter between two famous people.

 Despite the many times Harry had heard of it, he had never been there himself.

He knew that YN loved a lay-in on the weekends, often staying in bed until nine or even ten if she had the chance.

 But he was praying desperatelythat maybe, just maybe, she had woken up early today. 

That maybe she’d see his message, hear his call, and give him the chance to explain before the media twisted everything into something it wasn’t.

And then, as if the universe had conspired against him, a series of unfortunate events began to unfold. 

Harry considered himself a person with relatively good luck, but today—on the one day he needed it the most—luck was nowhere to be found. 

He needed a favor from fate more than he needed to throw a game-winning touchdown during the playoffs, but fate had other plans.

He had anticipated the presence of paparazzi. 

That was the whole point of this arrangement, after all. 

But what he hadn’t expected was just how many would be waiting for him. 

The scene outside the restaurant was overwhelming—swarming with photographers who acted like vultures circling fresh roadkill.

They were shoving at each other, pressing themselves against his car before he even had the chance to park properly. 

And, of course, because they wanted the best possible photographs, he had been instructed to park at the very front of the restaurant—completely exposed. 

Normally, in situations like this, celebrities were offered the option of a back entrance, a discreet way in.

But not today.

Harry’s anxiety, which had been simmering since the night before, was now reaching a boiling point. 

The flashing cameras, the deafening shouts, the lack of personal space—it all pushed him closer and closer to the edge. 

The paparazzi operated with the delusion that they were untouchable, fearless even in the face of a towering quarterback with broad shoulders and the muscle mass to back up his size. 

They had the upper hand, and they knew it.

Then, the bystanders started to notice the commotion. 

Pedestrians, people who had merely been passing by, suddenly realized someone important was in their midst. 

Like moths to a flame, they gravitated toward the growing mob, adding to the chaos.

In the frenzy of trying to get into the restaurant without causing a scene—or worse, someone getting hurt, Harry never heard his phone ring. 

The noise was too much, his mind too wired, his body too overwhelmed to even register the vibration in his pocket.

By the time he finally made it inside, he was on the verge of hyperventilating. 

But he hid it well. 

No one—not the restaurant staff, not the other patrons would be able to tell just how much he was struggling. 

Only YN ever saw through the cracks in his composure.

The restaurant’s owner greeted him, shaking his hand and immediately launching into a conversation about football. 

It was always football.

Harry nodded along, forcing himself to appear engaged even as he mentally tried to steady himself. 

He was then guided to a very public table on the outside patio, where cameras could easily document every second of the staged date.

Tessa hadn’t arrived yet. 

That, at least, was a small mercy. 

He had a few minutes to collect himself before he had to endure the part of the morning he was dreading the most.

Harry pulled out his phone, fully expecting to see nothing from YN.

But to his surprise, there was a missed call.

8:23 AM.

His heart lurched as he immediately pressed her contact, anxious for her to answer. 

He needed to explain himself. 

Needed her to hear the truth. 

But the call rang once before going straight to voicemail.

His stomach dropped.

She had sent him to voicemail.

How could she already know?

Then, a text appeared on his screen:

YN: Sorry! I’m about to head into a deep tissue massage appointment to work on these aches from the accident. My shoulder’s still twinging a bit!! I’ll call you when I get out! (:

Relief flooded through him, though it was short-lived. 

He wanted to reply immediately, to ask for just a minute of her time, but before he could type out a message, his ‘date’ was arriving at the table.

++

The date was going terribly.

Harry couldn’t focus on anything Tessa was saying. 

His mind was elsewhere, his eyes constantly flicking to his phone.

He was hyper-aware of the paparazzi, more so than usual, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t force himself to feign interest in the conversation.

It didn’t take long for Tessa to notice.

With a scowl on her face, she clinked her fork against the plate in frustration.

“You could at least try to be interested in what I’m saying. We’re on a date, and you’re not treating it like one.”

Harry blinked, setting his phone down. 

His usual cool, composed demeanor was nowhere to be found when he replied sharply, “I’m not treating it like a real date because it isn’t. Public Relations managers don’t set up dates—they set up business opportunities that make them money.”

Tessa’s expression tightened, though she was careful to maintain an air of professionalism. 

Cameras were everywhere, after all.

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath, low enough that only he could hear.

Harry scoffed, running his tongue over his teeth, “If you typically start relationships with a signed contract, I guarantee you that’s not a great start.”

His stomach churned. 

He could barely take more than a few bites of his meal without feeling nauseous.

The rest of the breakfast was as awkward as expected. 

And yet, they still had to end it with a hug and a kiss on the cheek—nothing inherently intimate, but in the context of this situation, it would be spun into something far bigger than it was.

The moment he was in his car, he peeled out of the parking lot, desperate to get away from the flashing cameras.

But the entire drive home, he was texting.

H: Please, please call me when you’re out of your massage.

H: Nut, I will explain everything to you. I promise.

H: It wasn’t anything. I promise I have an explanation.

H: Call me, please.

For the first few hours, he tried to remain optimistic.

But Harry knew deep tissue massages didn’t last four hours.

By that point, he knew. 

She had seen the photos.

He tried calling.

It rang twice, offering a flicker of hope—but then it stopped. 

She hadn’t blocked him, and while he hadn’t truly believed she would, the lack of an answer still cut deep.

Then he went online.

The breakfast date was trending in the top ten by the afternoon.

The photo of him kissing Tessa’s cheek was the headline image.

So she had seen it.

Harry knew blowing up her phone wouldn’t help. 

He needed to respect her boundaries.

She clearly didn’t want to talk to him.

But he just wanted a chance to explain.

If they weren’t in different cities, he’d be at her door. 

And if he didn’t have a meeting later that he cannot bail on, he’d be on a plane to her by now.

Harry gets this heart-wrenching feeling, and he’s really never felt it but once before.

That had been when YN had ended things with him.

[pretty-circa006]

Dumb Little Slut

Negan x F! Reader

summary It was a stupid mistake, really, but she didn't think Negan would get this mad at her.

tags rough sex, boot worship, gagging, spanking, choking, unprotected p in v, creampie, squirting, crying and dacryphilia, degradation and name calling, mild dub-con

wc 1.3k

note i totally forgot i had an ao3 account where i uploaded this fic, so when i remembered, of course the first thing i did was cross post it here! fair warning, this is something i would consider dark.

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *

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With Lucille in hand, Negan sat at the head of the table surrounded by Saviors as he awaited an explanation as to why they only came back with less than half the stuff they were supposed to.

Simon sighed. "One of the workers forgot to close the back of the truck and most of the stuff fell out." 

"Ya couldn't go back and get it?" Negan questioned. 

"We didn't notice until we got back." Negan sighed and ran a hand over his face. He was beyond pissed. Even though The Saviors would be okay without it, he still hated that half his shit was out scattered on the roads somewhere. 

"Who in the hell forgot to close the truck? I want a name and I want it now," he demanded with a slam of the baseball bat to the table. 

"[Name]," Simon said. Negan sighed. He should've known it'd be her. This wasn't the first time she's fucked up this stupidly and it sure as hell wouldn't be the last if he didn't teach her a lesson. 

"Bring her to my room. Dismissed." He stood up and stormed out before the others could. 

...

She nervously stood under Negan's harsh, hazel glare. He was sure she knew why she was here, because the first thing that came out of her were streams of apologies. 

"I-I'm sorry, S-sir! I thought I had closed it, honest!" she sobbed with big teary eyes. He grabbed a fist-full of her hair and forced her head back to make her stare up at him. She winced, which only motivated him to tighten his grip, earning a whimper from her trembling lips. 

"This isn't the first time you've fucked shit up," he growled, a dark look in his eyes. She started crying even harder, which made him smile. He roughly released her hair from his grip. With his gloved hand, he cupped her jaw, his thumb and fingers squeezing her cheeks so hard her lips puffed out. He leaned down to her level, his face barely an inch from hers.  

"Your ass is so damn lucky I don't have that pretty fuckin' face of yours burned," he said lowly. He could feel her quivering in his hold, but she maintained eye contact. 

"T-thank you for not b-burning my face off," she choked out. 

He smiled his charming dimpled smile at her, but his eyes were still dark. With anger or lust, she didn't know, but either way she was afraid. 

"Don't think for a second you're getting off scot free. You know damn well you have to make it up to me." She nodded her head as best she could in his grip. He roughly let go of her jaw and shed off his leather jacket before sitting down in his leather couch. 

"Strip," he ordered once she was standing before him. 

"Y-yes, sir." She unlaced her boots before toeing them off. With trembling hands, she unbuttoned her jeans before stepping out of them along with her panties and pulling her tank top over her head. Negan wolf whistled when he saw she wasn't wearing a bra. Normally, that would've had her all hot and bothered, but this wasn't like the other times she's been called to his bedroom.  

"On your knees." She lowered herself to all fours and crawled over to him. She awaited her next orders like an obedient puppy. 

"Get yourself off on my boot." His boot was relatively clean, considering, so she didn't hesitate to put her bare clit on the toe of his boot. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes with remorseful doe eyes. She began to  grind her hips on the leather, giving her clit the much needed friction.

"You are one filthy slut! Look at you gettin' off on my goddamn boot," he mocked. 

Without warning, Negan shoved his index, middle, and ring finger in her mouth, commanding her to suck, which she did eagerly. Her tongue swirled around the digits before he shoved them as far down her throat as he could, until the rest of his hand stopped him, causing her to gag around his hand.

"Thaaat's it, take it like a good little slut," he simultaneously praised and degraded. 

She continued humping his boot, coating it in her slick as she became more aroused and closer to her orgasm. The coil that built up in her lower belly was so close to bursting and Negan could tell by the garbled moans that came out around his hand. Every now and then, he'd press down on the back of her tongue, causing her to gag and more hot tears to pour down her face, making him grow even harder in his pants. She was about to come, Negan saw all her telltale signs, but this was a punishment and she didn't deserve to.

"Oh no, you don't get to cum, at least not yet!" 

He yanked his hand out, causing her to cough and picked her up from under her arms bent her over his lap. Her hard sensitive nipples against the rough fabric of his pants caused her to moan. He slapped her ass hard enough to leave a handprint before slapping it even harder a few more times. He could see her arousal pouring down her inner thighs. She was enjoying this far more than he'd like her to. 

"N-negan, please!" she begged, earning another slap to the ass. 

"You do not fuckin speak unless I tell you to," he said darkly. He pushed her off his lap and onto the floor before ordering her to crawl to the bed and get on it. He followed behind her as he undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants, freeing his rock hard cock. It sprung up and slapped his abdomen. Negan was huge and she was honestly nervous to take him without prep. He never prepped her when he was angry at her. He stroked it a few times before lining it up with her leaking cunny. He slid his aching red tip up and down her slick slit before sliding himself all the way in and bottoming out from behind. She screamed out in a mix of pain and pleasure. 

"What a slutty pussy, baby," he moaned. He didn't wait for her to adjust to his size and started roughly fucking her with a bruising grip on her hips. As he pounded into her, he roughly kneaded the soft flesh of her ass. Wanton moans escaped her lips with every deep thrust. He tangled his hand in her hair before pulling her head back by it, earning a pained scream from her. His large hand wrapped around her throat, cutting off her oxygen as he got himself off. Her slick, velvety walls clamped down on his girth, a sign she was close. She clawed at Negan's hand, but he only gripped her throat harder. 

"Take it like the goddamned dirty girl you are, doll," Negan encouraged. The sounds and smell of sex filled the bedroom. He removed his hand from her throat when he felt her go limp in his hold. Slightly worried, he turned her onto her back while still balls deep in her pussy. His thrusts slowed as he lightly slapped her face a few times until she woke again.

"Don't go passin' out on me now, babydoll." 

He put her legs over his shoulders, bending her in half as he picked up his rough pace. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she moaned his name repeatedly. He pawed at her tits as they jiggled with each thrust. His dick twitched inside her before he came without warning. He threw his head back as he moaned her name while emptying his white hot seed into her slutty pussy. She shook with her orgasm as she squirted around his now semi-hard cock, wetting his dark comforter. 

"That's my dumb little slut," he praised as he pulled out. His girl was lazily sprawled out on his bed, barely able to keep her tired eyes open as his cum leaked out of her. He sent a playful slap to her already abused cunny. 

"You won't be so lucky next fuckin' time, so I suggest you get your goddamn shit together before you get burned." 

She sleepily mumbled in response, too tired and fucked out for anything. 

this was originally posted on my ao3 account on 4/28/2024. i haven't posted on there since because people don't comment and barely leave kudos 🥲